


The Morans

by therecognitionscene



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Twincest, Violence, a look at the life of the moran twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:03:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therecognitionscene/pseuds/therecognitionscene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian and Severin Moran are two pieces of the same broken whole, trained to kill and not feel a thing. But they have a history that stretches beyond their employment with James Moriarty; once, they were human. Once, they had hearts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morans

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be a story about Sebastian and Severin Moran, examining various parts of their lives. Rated Mature for now, but as more chapters get added, the rating will change to reflect the Morancest that is inevitable. Big thanks to my lovely girlfriend, phantomsforever, for editing this for me and being generally amazing; and another thanks to bigbootsmanofwar for the RP that is inspiring this fic! Enjoy!

The rain was falling in a steady drizzle. Not enough to postpone the funeral, but just enough to make the terrible day that much more miserable. Jackets clung to damp shirts, hair hung stringy and wet, breath frosted in the cool air as the small crowd gathered around the newly-dug grave.

Sebastian Moran brought a hand up to his cheek, wiping away a stray raindrop. Or was it a tear?

His brother, his twin, stood beside him, both of them dressed in matching dark suits. Seb hated them: he'd much rather be wearing his old sweatpants and the oversized jumper he nicked from his grandfather's trunk in the attic of their home. But Severin, he had always been more comfortable in formal wear. Hell, he had always been more comfortable with their whole damn lives. Seb couldn't stomach his parent's uppity social lives. Their father was Sir Augustus Moran, after all: famed ex-soldier with more honours and medals than shelf-space to display them. There was never a shortage of parties and functions for the family of four to attend. Well, family of three, now.

Seb glanced sideways at Severin, anxious of what he would find written on his twin's face. But there wasn't anything there, just a blank mask. Empty, void, safe. Sev and Mum had been close, closer than Sebastian had ever been with their late mother, and Seb knew he was taking her death especially hard. It had come as a shock to everyone--

_“Heart attack... Strange for such a healthy woman...Never saw it coming...”_

\--and although Sebastian was heartbroken, he couldn't begin to imagine how it was affecting Sev. 

Their Da was distant and cold, as usual; Seb should have known not to expect any comfort from him, the bastard, but he had hoped for something: a hug, a kind word, a reassurance. Anything would have helped the two twins. Who expected to lose their mother at fourteen?

When they started to lower the casket into the dark, damp hole in the ground, Seb reached over and grasped Sev's hand in his own. Their fingers intertwined as the priest's words fell flat and meaningless on their ears. Their mother was dead. Dead and soon to be buried, hidden away from them forever. There was no mistaking the tears then as they slid down Seb's cheeks; he choked back a sob, hand convulsing in Sev's, but his twin made no sounds. He simply stared at the casket as the black dirt was piled on top of it. Their father's hands fell heavily on their shoulders, and Seb turned a tear-stained and reddened face to his father. Augustus Moran didn't see his sons, though. His eyes were locked on a space somewhere across the cemetery, refusing to look at the casket or his lost boys as the grave was sealed.

They had a small gathering at their house after the service. Sebastian stepped up and acted the part his father should have played, accepting people's condolences and pitying looks as his Da drank himself into a stupor in a dark corner of their mansion. He hated it, the way everyone whispered around him and shook their heads, lamenting the loss and the poor motherless, handsome twins.

_Shame they'll have to grow up without a strong woman in their lives, isn't it?_  
 _Quite the shame. You know, I heard that things weren't going so well between Augustus and Victoria anyways._  
 _Still, Augustus must be devastated. And now he has to finish raising his boys all by himself._  
 _Shame, shame... More wine for you?_

Sebastian wanted to scream. Didn't they understand? Their mother was dead dead dead dead, and all they could do was stuff their faces with hors d'oeuvres and gossip.

Severin sat on the edge of a plush chair in the crowded living room and didn't say a word to anyone, not even his twin when Seb came up and offered him a small plate of food. It was their Mum's favorite chair, Seb noted with a frown, an old and soft piece of furniture with a thousand memories woven into the stitches. They'd spent many nights when they were younger sitting on their mother's lap in that chair, reading books and talking. Seb used to look at that chair with a fond smile; now, he almost couldn't bear to see Sev sitting in it. Memories fell dark and heavy like ash in his mind.

“C'mon, Sev. You've gotta help me... At least come stand with me, you prick... Will you eat something, then? Christ, Sev, say something. _Anything_.” There was no response and Seb could think of nothing else to say.

Later that night, after everyone had left the Moran household, going home to their own families and leaving behind their sorrow at the gates of the Moran family estate, Sebastian lay in bed and did nothing. He couldn't cry anymore, and anyways, what was the point? Mum was dead and sobbing like a baby wouldn't bring her back. Da was passed out in Mum's old painting room, so there was no reason to try and seek him out for comfort. Not that he would have done anything even if he was sober. And Sev, Sev was... Somewhere. Who knew.

Seb stared up at the ceiling as time dragged slowly on, vaguely aware of the shifting shadows around him. The night was bright with moonlight; the clouds from earlier had disappeared, and his small bedroom glowed in the almost eerie light pouring in through the open curtains. At some point, probably after midnight, the door to his room opened briefly and then closed. He didn't bother looking to see who it was—it was probably just some maid checking in on him-- but a few moments later, his bed dipped and there was an identical body sliding under the covers next to his own.

“Severin... Come here.”

Severin fell to pieces in his twin's arms that night, cried himself hoarse, beat his fists against Seb's chest. “It's not fair it's not fair it's not fair, why couldn't it have been Da, why did she have to die, why, Seb, I needed her, she left us alone with him, didn't she love us?” 

Seb did his best to comfort his brother, running a hand through his blond hair, rubbing small circles onto his back. When Severin finally calmed down a bit and lay in a dazed, tear-soaked stupor, Seb pressed a soft kiss to his brother's head. 

“It's alright, Sev. 'm here. I'll take care of you forever, yeah? I love you.”

His brother didn't hear him, didn't hear the fervor in his words, didn't notice the way Seb's lips lingered on his temple. He was already fast asleep, exhausted from his outburst of emotions and the trauma of the last few days. 

In the morning, the sun was shining and Sev woke up curled against Seb, their identical chests rising and falling in the same pattern, and he knew he would be alright. As long as he had Sebastian.


End file.
